


you're on thin ice, princess

by lecornergirl



Series: 100 percent pure holiday fluff [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecornergirl/pseuds/lecornergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Careful, princess, you’re on thin ice,” he warns, but she doesn’t seem to get it.</p><p>“Can’t take the heat?” she asks, with a playful hint in her tone that he’d love to explore if it wasn’t for the fact that—</p><p>“No, like, actually,” he says at the same time as the ice starts cracking for real. Before she can seem to process what’s happening, Clarke falls through into the icy water below.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're on thin ice, princess

**Author's Note:**

> if you ever wanted to find me on tumblr for whatever reason you can do so @ phonotactless

It took Bellamy a while to figure out why Octavia and Lincoln had invited him and Clarke to go on their annual cabin retreat with them, but as soon as they got there and O and Lincoln were off on some all-day ski trip every single day, he caught on.

Octavia wasn’t half as subtle a matchmaker as she thought she was.

And it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the thought, he just doesn’t think it was necessary. He was doing perfectly fine all on his own. He was just playing the slow game. But O, apparently, didn’t have time for the slow game.

It’s day three, and he’s managed to get Clarke to leave the cabin so they can go ice-skating. The previous days, she hadn’t wanted to leave, complaining about how cold it was outside and why would they leave when they could stay on the couch and watch Netflix and drink hot chocolate. Which, okay, Bellamy is all for couch and Netflix and hot chocolate, but he’s also growing antsy after not leaving the house for two whole days. Literal cabin-fever.

So he found his and Octavia’s skates, figuring her foot is probably the same size as Clarke’s, and told her she didn’t have a choice. He practically had to manhandle her into her coat and hat and scarf, but she didn’t make it half as hard on him as she could have, so he’s counting that as a victory. And she seems to be really warming to the skating thing, so that’s also a plus.

Of course, it turns out that she’s warming to it because she’s an actual prodigy.

“I’m not a fucking prodigy, Bell, Jesus, I just took lessons as a kid,” she says, but as far as he’s concerned it counts. He should have realised, really. What kind of rich kid growing up in the northeast didn’t take skating lessons from some world-famous-but-retired Olympic coach? (“She wasn’t an Olympic coach! She only coached up to Nationals!” He’s not listening to her protests any more.)

He’d feel like his plan backfired, but he gets to watch Clarke tentatively pirouette and jump her way around the small pond behind the cabin, so. Who’s the real winner here?

The pond isn’t the smoothest, but Clarke seems to be doing okay. And by okay he means she’s literally skating in circles around him. He’s not a bad skater, by any means, but it’s been a few years, and he never took lessons from an Olympic coach, so he’s nowhere near Clarke’s level.

She’s busy mocking him for it—because when is she not mocking him for something, really?—when he sees the tiny cracks in the ice beneath her blades.

“Careful, princess, you’re on thin ice,” he warns, but she doesn’t seem to get it.

“Can’t take the heat?” she asks, with a playful hint in her tone that he’d love to explore if it wasn’t for the fact that—

“No, like, actually,” he says at the same time as the ice starts cracking for real. Before she can seem to process what’s happening, Clarke falls through into the icy water below.

She’s only under for a second or two, but it feels like an eternity. Finally, his brain kicks in, and he starts unwinding his scarf from around his neck. He gets on his hands and knees, trying to distribute his weight over as wide an area as possible. Clarke is thrashing around, which is understandable considering the situation she’s in, but he really needs her to stop.

“Clarke. _Clarke_. I need you to calm down. Clarke! Look at me, okay? Clarke. Look at me.” She’s still thrashing a little, but at least she’s trying to look at him. He tries to maintain eye contact with her, speaking in soothing tones and trying to keep the panicking to a minimum. Panicking will not help either of them right now.

He tosses her the end of his scarf. “Hey, Clarke. I need you to hold on to the scarf for me. Can you do that? I’m going to try and pull you out. I need you to try and stay calm, Clarke, okay?” He’s not sure she hears him, at first, but she grabs on to the scarf, and her movements have slowed down some. Of course, that could also be hypothermia setting in, so. He really needs to get her out of this pond.

She’s hanging on to the scarf, but it’s not enough to pull her out. Bellamy curses under his breath, careful not to alert Clarke to the fact that things aren’t going exactly to plan. He needs her calm and focused if he’s going to get her out without falling in himself.

“Okay, hey, you know what? We’re going to do something else instead.” Slowly, carefully, he lies down on the ice, inching forward until he can reach out and touch the edge of the hole in the ice. “Okay, Clarke, grab my hand. We’re going to get you out of there, okay?” She grabs on, and he’s encouraged by the fact that she’s still got a firm grip.

“All right, Clarke, I need you to try and pull yourself towards me, okay?” He starts moving backwards, trying to pull Clarke with him, and she seems to be helping him as best she can. Between the two of them, they get her half onto the ice, and she’s able to use the other edge of the hole to propel herself forward, until she’s lying next to Bellamy, drenched and shivering.

He doesn’t let them stand up until they’re a good ten feet from the hole, and by then they’re almost at the edge of the pond. Clarke tries to protest when he picks her up, not stopping to remove his skates, just focusing on getting her to the cabin. Everything he’s ever read about hypothermia flashes through his mind, and he dimly remembers he’s not supposed to put her in a hot bath, because her body couldn’t handle the rapid reheating. Instead, he tells her to strip as he tears off his skates and goes to find her as many towels and blankets as possible.

He knows she’s aware of how serious the situation could get when she doesn’t protest at all, just starts taking off her clothes. By the time he gets back, she’s struggling with the laces of her skates with her numb fingers. He kneels down to help her, and between the two of them they get all of her wet clothes off. Bellamy wraps her in the towels, drying her gently. When she seems to have gotten some of the feeling in her fingers back, he leaves her to it while he goes to find her dry clothes.

Clarke manages to get dressed on her own, and Bellamy remembers that he’s supposed to call the emergency number, just in case. He wraps her in approximately a million blankets, then tells her he’ll be right back.

He goes into the kitchen, making a cup of hot chocolate as he calls. He explains the situation to the paramedic on the phone, who tells him that as long as she’s conscious, coherent, and warming up, everything should be fine, but to call back if she gets drowsy, starts hyperventilating, or if her body temperature won’t return to normal.

“Hey, Clarke,” he says as he walks into the living room with the hot chocolate. “Who’s that idiot we hate who’s running for Republican candidate?”

“Fucking Trump,” she says immediately, and she sounds a lot better than she did just a minute ago. Bellamy’s heart rate is calming down, and he’s beginning to accept that they probably got off with a fright. Clarke is coherent and aware of the world, so that’s a good thing. He hands her the hot chocolate and just stares at her, trying not to think about how quickly the situation could have taken the turn.

The hot chocolate only occupies Clarke for a few moments before she realises he’s looking at her.

“Hey,” she says, gentle. “Bellamy. I’m okay. It’s okay. You got me.”

“Yeah, but I keep thinking, what if—”

“What if nothing, okay? We’re not going to think about it. I’m okay, that’s the end of it. Yeah?”

“No, Clarke, listen, I saw you go under and I couldn’t breathe, because all I could think was—” he cuts himself off, because this is not how he wants to have this conversation. But Clarke’s having none of it.

“All you could think was what, Bellamy?” With some difficulty, she gets up from her sofa and settles her mountain of blankets down next to him. “For what it’s worth, all I could think was it would be really lame if I died in that pond. It’s so tiny, it would be a pathetic way to go. And—”

He looks up, because even though this isn’t how he wants to have this conversation, something in Clarke’s voice tells him she’s having it anyway. “And?”

“And, it seemed really dumb to die before telling you how crazy in love with you I am,” she says with a smile. “I know it’s a cliché and all, but I saw my life flash before my eyes, and the next time that happens I want there to be a lot more of you in it.”

He stares at her for a few seconds, blinking dumbly, because what can he possibly say to that? So he doesn’t say anything and kisses her instead, cradling her head in his hands and trying to pour into that kiss exactly how terrified he was when he saw her fall, how relieved he is that she’s okay, and most of all how much he loves her, because life is short and he needs her to know. He tells her as much in words as well, once they break apart, and for a second she just laughs, because “God, Bell, and I thought I was the cliché one here.”

“So, how cold are you still?” he asks a few minutes later. “Because, you know, I have some ideas on how to get warm….”

She sighs theatrically. “I almost died, and that’s what’s on your mind?” she asks, but she also climbs up to straddle him and kisses him, again, so. He’s counting that as a victory.

**Author's Note:**

> always!! call the paramedics if someone has hypothermia ok  
> that shit is serious business


End file.
